


Lost Dawn

by Tyloric



Series: Rexari-54 [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An experiment in EXO psychology, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Humor, Experimental, Gen, M/M, Major Character Injury, Rex responds to stress with sass, This is a heavy one, Trope: enemy of my enemy, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyloric/pseuds/Tyloric
Summary: Rex is beaten and severely injured, stranded in New York with no where to run and with Taken closing in from all directions, fighting to just stay alive. His only chance is an injured Fallen Vandal who is just as tenacious and equally untrustworthy, but the two choose to form an alliance of circumstance.He can only hope that this Fallen keeps his end of the bargain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These notes are important.
> 
> I started writing this story well over a year ago and then life happened and some pretty heavy stuff went down. I was also in the middle of my final semester of college so it all just kind of fell away for a while. 
> 
> I've recently decided to revisit this story idea that captivated me for quite some time. The story isn't finished and while I'm not completely certain where it will end up, I have some rough ideas. I'm in the middle of some pretty hefty rewrites.
> 
> But my question to you, my readers: please leave me a comment telling me if this is something you'd like to see more of. I'd hate to pour myself back into a project that no one ends up reading, because I love writing things my readers want to, you know, read. It's why I do this! So drop me a line and let me know what you think.
> 
> There are quite a few lore tweaks (particularly New York isn't a crater) and Google Docs and AO3 don't really get along with formatting so please excuse any errors in that department.

“Ghost!” Rex yells as he runs down the street dodging fire, his right arm dangling and whipping around him uselessly, a huge chuck of the shoulder, bicep, and forearm missing. “A little help here!” He fires a shot over his shoulder without looking.

“I’m here!” Ghost responds as he appears in front of Rex and matches his momentum, beams of light sweeping over his damaged arm. “I’m having trouble repairing the damage. The Darkness is too thick here!”

Rex curses loudly, ducks into an alley, and keeps running. As he rounds a second corner, he comes to a halt and presses his back against the wall. The damage to his body is giving him sensations that he’s having trouble sorting through, and he needs a moment to catch his breath - so to speak.

 _Critical failure in right arm, lost communication with phalanges, unable to reestablish connection, danger: critical failure in circuit relays; unable to detect power fluctuation. Error, error, error,_ **_error!_ **

He asked Darrus a long while back what pain is like since Exo and organics experience sensations differently. Since then, Rex has become intimately familiar with the concept. The signals and sensations that are currently bombarding his mind are almost too much for him to bear. The closest equivalent he can think of is ‘agony’.

“Dammit,” he curses again. “Dammit, _dammit!_ ”

His ghost circles him worriedly, scans running up and down the damaged limb. “I’m sorry, I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Rex says as calmly as he can. “Can you reach the ship or establish a connection with the tower?”

“No,” Ghost says solemnly, “I can’t connect to anything. The Darkness has spread too far. We need to get somewhere it’s thinner. I’m receiving no signal from the ship, either.”

Screw the Taken, seriously.

They’re on a patrol run in a part of the world Guardians rarely venture into anymore: the United States. More specifically, New York. Even after the Traveler found Earth and the humans began to venture out into the stars, Earth was always still considered the Home Planet. Once, even further back in history, New York had been the location of something called the United Nations, which eventually evolved into the United Planetary Council.

When the Darkness came it, like the Cosmodrome, was one of the last places to be over run. Afterwards, the shadow of the Traveler became the last sanctuary for the planet’s population. Other than the Reef, but that’s another story.

There was an interest in the area based on recent foot holdings the Vanguard had made in terms of the Hive. With Oryx in gone, the Hive were in a sort of disarray; not a large one, to be sure, but enough of one to pique the curiosity of the higher ups in the Vanguard. This place had once been one of the greatest hubs of scientific knowledge and historic records, either of which could be invaluable.

Rex had been assigned to the task and he hadn’t questioned it. He was one of the best scouts in the Vanguard, despite him being a warlock.

Darrus, his mechanic - and boyfriend, as it also happens - hadn’t been as thrilled. They’d had a fight, if you can call it that. More of an exchange of raised voices that had ended in whispered words and promises of coming home. Even Liel, an old fireteam mate of his had shared his reservations, and Liel wasn’t exactly the epitome of emotional communication.

They’d arrived to find that, yes, the Hive were in fact in disarray, and the Fallen were already taking complete advantage of the situation.

Still, Fallen are easy to slip by and are easily distracted. A distraction here or there and the odd breaking of one’s neck and stashing the body somewhere and he’d remained mostly undetected.

But then the darkness had come like a hurricane making it ashore, and there were rifts of pure darkness releasing the twisted monstrosities everywhere. After that, all hell had broken loose. A shot from somewhere by something - he hadn’t been able to tell - had torn through his armor all but made scrap metal of his arm. So he ran and didn’t stop running for what felt like ages. Several Taken had pursued him, but he seems to have given them the slip, at least for the moment.

So now here he is, stranded without a way to contact anyone for backup and his ghost struggling to deal with his injuries.

“This sucks,” Rex says helpfully. “Is the sparrow an option?”

His ghost stops scanning his arm and spins in the air, thinking. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Too noisy and the Darkness is so thick it probably stretches for dozens of miles, perhaps even over the entire city. We’d most definitely attract all sorts of unwanted attention.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic. Dammit, this hurts _a lot_ ,” He growls, frustrated.

“I’m doing the best I can, I’m sorry,” Ghost responds frantically making Rex immediately feel like an asshole.

“No, I know, I know. Sorry.” Rex shakes his head to try and clear his mind. “So we can’t get out of here on a vehicle and we can’t signal for help.” He looks at his gun’s side display. On the bright side, at least he has plenty of ammo. Even if he did run out, he’s one talented Sunsinger, if Rex does say so himself. His sniper rifle is a no go; no way Rex can work it with only one functional arm.

“Things don’t look good,” Ghost agrees, sweeping beams of light over his arm again in a vain attempt to repair it.

As another batch of error messages bombard his thoughts he snaps, “Ghost, get back inside me. If you can’t fix my arm I need you to trick my body into thinking it’s totally fine. I can’t concentrate like this.”

To its credit, Ghost doesn’t hesitate. “Right,” it says and vanishes, Rex’s mind clearing up almost immediately.

That’s more like it. “We don’t actually need to get out of the city,” Rex explains after a moment of thinking, ”We just need to get far enough away from whatever is causing all this Darkness to be able to signal for help. Or maybe even transport back to the ship, if we’re lucky.”

“It’s better than having no plan,” Ghost agrees, his voice echoing inside Rex’s head. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to that. But Rex knows they’re in trouble when he and his ghost stop arguing.

“Any ideas why the Taken would suddenly be setting up shop here?”  
  
“The fire team that pursued Oryx after his escape confirmed his death, so something else must be at work here,” Ghost speculates. “This is still technically Hive territory, despite the Fallen’s sudden aggression. Perhaps there is something here that is still worth protecting.”

“And it would have to be on the day that we’re here,” Rex mutters. He pushes off against the wall. “Nothing to be accomplished by waiting here.” He starts walking. “You scanned the layout of the city before we landed, right?”  
  
“Go left when we get back out onto the street,” Ghost says by way of answering.

Progress is slow; the Taken and remaining Hive are everywhere. There is fighting in the streets, them versus the Fallen. Oddly enough, he’s seen none of the air support or drop ships the Fallen normally utilize.

They’re on the roof of a tall building now, maybe six stories, Rex’s stomach hugging the ground. They’ve been there for a couple of hours now. He’s trying to get the lay of the land and mark where all the fighting is so they can plot a safer course through the city. It’s also the safest spot to be in the area considering it’s also the tallest structure, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about snipers. The real problem is that the fighting is everywhere. Rex has been lucky that they’ve yet to be spotted. Or if they have, lucky enough to be ignored. He’s not sure which scenario he prefers, to be honest.

“There is something different about this Darkness,” Ghost notes after a while.

“What do you mean?” He asks quietly.

“Well, if it was just the normal kind, the Fallen would have sent for reinforcements by now. But they seem just as disoriented as we are. I think maybe they’ve lost all their communication resources too.”

“That sort of thing isn’t mentioned in the reports of any known Taken encounters. Not even on the Dreadnaught.”

“I’m merely speculating, Rex,” Ghost chides. “There is something strange going on here.”

There is a deafening cry down below followed by a rumble that shakes the entire building. Taken have just warped into existence at the bottom of his hiding place, followed by immediate gunfire from _inside_ the building he was occupying. How did he miss that a Fallen group was holding up just beneath him?

“Dammit,” Rex curses again - at this point it’s basically his favorite word. He checks that his hand cannon is reloaded and ready to go, just in case. “I could try and hover over to the building across from us, but there is no way we wouldn’t be seen.”

“I don’t know how I missed the Fallen signatures!” Ghost panics. “How did I not notice?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rex soothes. “It’s been one of those days.” It’s like Ghost had said: there is something strange going on here. He just starting to stand up when the roof access door bursts open, a Fallen captain staggering through it. Rex is already aiming, hand cannon up with his finger on the trigger.

The Fallen falls to the ground on its back and doesn’t get up, but Rex can still see its chest rising and falling as it breathes. It’s four arms - and the fact that the Fallen can have more than two still creeps Rex out - and it’s clutching one hand to a wound on its side, black-green blood oozing out from a hole in its armor. It had lost its grip on it’s swords as it had come through the door, one of them skidding across the concrete to a stop at Rex’s feet.

Silver linings and small mercies.

But Rex doesn’t move. If a situation is so hopeless that the Captain would flee from the fight, that means that the Fallen on the ground floor are the least of his concerns.

So he waits; waits for something else to emerge, waits even after the sounds of battle downstairs have ceased.

In reality, he’s really just that terrified. He made a promise to get home; he is _going_ to get home, useless arm be damned.

The Fallen starts to sit up and Rex readies himself to fire… but doesn’t. If he fires he’ll alert everything nearby that there is still a fight going on. Whether the Fallen or the Taken had won the skirmish down stairs is irrelevant; someone was bound to come investigate.

“Don’t move,” he growls lowly, and the Captain freezes, slowly tilting its head in his direction. Four glowing blue eyes fixate on him and narrow. Even with the distance between them, Rex can feel the anger radiating from this creature.

When the Captain starts to move again, producing an energy pistol from the hip Rex was blind too, he hisses, “Do that and we’re both dead.” The Captain stops, considering, which solves the mystery of whether or not it can understand him.

“If you attack me, I will defend myself,” he explains as calmly as he can. “And if we start a fight, someone down stairs is going to notice, and I’m guessing since you’re up here and not down there, it’s because you lost. Your friends won’t be coming to save you.”  
  
The Fallen doesn’t react, but still doesn’t stow its weapon.

“What are you doing?” Ghost demands inside his head.

“Taking desperate measures,” Rex mutters grimly. “I’m going to stow my weapon away now, alright?”

“That is a thing you definitely should not do!” Ghost insists.

Ignoring him, Rex continues. “If I’d wanted you dead I would have shot you the moment you stumbled through that door.” He can see the Captain grip the pistol a little tighter, so Rex rushes to keep going. He’s already taken the plunge. “We’re both injured,” he says, tilting his head to his ruined arm. “So are you, but it doesn’t look life threatening. We have that in common. So we have to be _quiet_ and wait for an opportunity to slip away.”

Rex tries not to squirm when he feels Ghost bolt around agitatedly inside his chest. “What?!” It exclaims, clearly freaking out.  
  
“Do you understand?” Rex asks, addressing the Captain.

It doesn’t reply. In fact, it doesn’t do anything. They both just sitting there having the most stressful staring contest in history.

“Ghost, stow my pistol and helmet.”  
  
“You’ve lost your mind,” it responds with a resigned tone, but does as it’s told as Rex’s gear blinks out of existence. To be fair, he totally has. The Captain just watches him for a long while, eerily still. The longer this goes on the more nervous Rex gets. Until eventually it very slowly holsters its pistol and begins to stand up.

“What’s to stop me from running you through?” The Fallen surprises Rex by speaking, its voice low and gargling. It produces a sword in its hand which had been hidden from Rex’s view.

After the shock wears off a moment later, Rex reaches inside himself and pulls out his Light, just enough to make his left hand glow and crackle with an ethereal flame.

“You could try,” Rex challenges cooly, “But is it a risk you’re willing to take?”

The Fallen tilts its head then, studying him, and now that Rex can see it at its full height, he can’t help but be intimidated.

“Not yet,” it rumbles, slipping the blade into a holster hidden beneath its cape.

Feeling relieved, but still not dropping his guard, Rex says, “I’m Rexari-54. Everyone just calls me Rex.”

“Cro’istozl,” the Captain responds a beat later.

“I’ll just call you Cro, big guy.”  
  
He - Rex has decided it’s a he to keep things simple in his head - narrows his eyes. “You’ve a plan?”  
  
“Sure do,” Rex says, beaming. “Do absolutely nothing.”

Cro stares at him stupidly a moment before taking a few steps forward. “That is not a plan, you synthetic fool,” he growls, but then stops and clutches at his side again, black blood trickling through his fingers.

“I’ve got too much to lose to die here,” Rex says seriously, unfazed. “Neither of us is in any shape to fight. Like I said; we need to wait for an opportunity.”

“And if one does not present itself?”  
  
Rex shrugs. “We improvise.”

“This is a mistake,” Cro grumbles, as if disappointed in himself.

“Tell me about it,” Ghost groans and honestly, Rex isn’t confident this will work either.

  


They’ve been waiting a while, maybe a couple of hours. Every so often he’ll send Ghost out to get a quick look around to see if there is anything around. So far, yes. Yes, there is. The pain in his arm hasn’t gotten any better, and Ghost promises it’ll be back as quick as it can each time.

Cro, for his part, says nothing, sitting about a dozen feet away from Rex, who is sitting cross-legged leaning against the wall that frames the roof access door. Cro tracks Ghost warily the first time Rex sends him out, but so far that’s the only reaction Rex has been able to get out of him.

It is Cro who breaks the silence. “How did you damage your arm?”

Rex snaps his head around to face the Fallen, surprised. “Uh, I don’t know. Got shot from somewhere. A sniper, from the angle. Not sure if it was one of yours or one of the Taken. Things went to hell pretty quickly.”

Cro grunts and says nothing else.

“And,” Rex drawls. “How about you?”  
  
“You already know the answer,” Cro snarls nastily.

Rex throws up his good hand in surrender. “Just trying to keep the conversation going, big guy.”

After regarding him for a few seconds Cro looks away and says, “One of the Taken. Another Vandal, like myself. The way they move is… unnatural.” There is an emotion hidden in Cro’s voice that Rex can’t quite identify, so he files it away for later.\

Rex’s first instinct is to say that all the Fallen are unnatural, but that probably wouldn’t go down very well. “Must be rough, seeing one of your own turn on you against their will,” he says instead, neutrally.

Cro doesn’t respond.

But as Rex thinks about it, he realizes something odd. “You know, I’ve never seen a Taken guardian. I wonder why?” He ponders out loud.

_Error: unable to establish communication-_

Rex curses, clutching at his shoulder.

“Remove it,” Cro snaps, irritated.

“What?”  
  
“Your arm is clearly a hindrance. The pain will not leave you.” Cro glances at Rex. “Remove it,” he finishes, his tone reproaching.

“That’s-” the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, is what Rex wants to say. But for some reason he can’t.

“The answer to your question is simple,” Cro continues suddenly. “You are a child of the Traveler. The Darkness cannot take you, only smother you.” While Rex appreciates the advice, he’s not exactly a fan of the condescending tone.

“Do you know what is causing it?”  
  
Cro says nothing, which to Rex means yes.

“Fine, keep your secrets. See if I care.” He does, but saying otherwise makes Rex feel better.

“I’m back,” Ghost announces quietly as it floats over the edge of the roof. “The coast still isn’t clear, and the sun is beginning to set.”  
  
Rex looks back around the wall he’s leaning against to look at the sun, only to find that it’s just a blur underneath this thick layer of Darkness.

In a split second, several emotions run through Rex’s mind. Hopelessness is the first, followed closely by a sense of loss and failure. Mentally, he is exhausted, and really just wants to go home.

But then the moment passes and Rex makes a decision.  
  
“I’m going to remove my arm, Ghost,” he declares, turning back around.

Ghost doesn’t reply at first, taking a moment to consider the radical course of action.

“I’m sorry I can’t heal it,” it sighs, sounding very much ashamed of itself.

Rex waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve gotten this far. We can feel sorry for ourselves later.”

“Right,” Ghost nods, vanishing back inside Rex. As the pain subsides, Rex feels his mind clear and the tension drain away from his limbs.

“I need to borrow a sword, big guy,” he addresses Cro.

Cro stands and turns his gaze towards Rex. “No one touches my blade but me.”  
  
Rex eyes him warily before standing up too. “Whatever.”

“Are we sure we can trust him?” Ghost queries.

“Nope.”

As Cro steps up to Rex - _he’s really tall! -_ and unsheathes one of his swords, Rex can’t help the surge of anxiety that follows. Cro is close enough to Rex that if he decides to kill Rex there won’t be much he can do about it. He’s putting a lot of trust in the Fallen even though he hasn’t any reason to do so. Maybe it’s the pain, maybe it’s the exhaustion, or perhaps even a mix of the two.

Cro tilts his head in a silent query.

Rex nods sharply. “Just do it.”

Cro moves with such blinding speed that Rex doesn’t even have time to flinch; one moment his arm is there and the next it’s lying on the ground. He can’t help but stumble backwards, albeit belatedly.

“A little warning next time,” Rex grits out.

Cro makes a movement that Rex identifies as a shrug. “The deed is done.”

Rex stares at the now detached appendage on the ground and can’t help feel a sense of loss. Ghost is having to tell his mind that the arm is still there and fully functional in order to cease the pain, and as a result the arm still feels like it’s there. Rex think’s that’s called a phantom limb and it is not a pleasant sensation.

“You could have killed me, you know,” Rex mutters.

“Yes,” comes Cro’s simple response.

“Why didn’t you?”

He makes a rumbling sound in his chest. “Something to ponder,” Cro states and doesn’t elaborate further. Rex wonders if the Fallen captain even knows the answer himself.

He looks out over the horizon. “Sundown soon. We ought to move inside.”

“What, why?”

“Daylight was slowing the Taken down. Without it, they will swarm the area. Our chances of remaining undetected are better indoors.”

That isn’t the plan Rex had been betting on. “I was figuring we’d use the night to our advantage.”

“Idiot,” Cro snarls. “My kind thrive in the dark, but the Taken were born inside it. You are already handicapped. Your limited vision in this environment will make you useless.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Rex challenges. “What about _your_ injury?”

“Precisely,” Cro responds with finality and pulls the access door open, stepping inside.

He clenches his fist angrily. “Ghost, get me my helmet.”

“Right,” Ghost confirms immediately, helmet blinking back into existence.

As Rex steps inside the door, he waits until it swings shut behind him before he punches the wall in frustration, so hard that his fist leaves an indentation in the concrete. 

“We’ll survive this,” Ghost assures him. “I know we will.”

“Yeah,” Rex agrees. His resolve is slipping, though; Rex is having a hard time believing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any formatting errors.

Rex is starting to wish he hadn’t come alone and he’s probably going to die.

“No we’re not,” Ghost says, sounding annoyed. Oh, had he said that out loud?

“This sucks,” Rex complains, not for the first time, and Cro growls from the corner where he’s sitting.

They’re on the third floor, which is the middle floor of the five story building. This was Rex’s idea, his logic being that if they have to make a break for it being at the midway point of either direction is probably in their best interest. Cro, in his usual fashion, had said nothing, instead taking up a point near the closest stair access. Rex had taken that as agreement.

But they’ve been sitting for what feels like hours, and admittedly Rex is starting to get fidgety, but doing nothing has never been his strong suit. That it had first been _his_ suggestion doesn’t help matters either.

Long story short, he’s bored.

“You’re irritating,” Cro snaps, and crap, did he say _that_ outloud too? “Are you incapable of being silent?”

“Yes,” Ghost deadpans even though the Captain can’t hear it.

“Sorry,” Rex grumbles. “I just hate that there is nothing we can do.”

“This was your idea to begin with,” Cro reminds him grumpily.

“Yeah,” Rex agrees, defeated. “I know.”

And so the silence returns, leaving Rex once again to his own devices. His thoughts keep wandering over to Darrus and what he’s up to. No doubt word has reached him by now that Rex has gone missing; he’s missed several check ins, not that he doesn’t have Ghost keep trying. He misses home, even though he’s barely been gone a day. He’s used to being gone weeks at a time, so Rex wonders what makes this time so different?

Certain doom and a missing arm probably have something to do with it. There is also something else that’s been bothering him, a thought that is nagging his mind.

“Why did you agree to this? Our truce, I mean.” Rex asks again.

Cro doesn’t offer an answer, and Rex wasn’t really expecting one, thought he’s pretty sure the Fallen is looking at Rex out of the corner of his eye.

“You could kill me. There really isn’t much I’d be able to do about it.” Rex is many things, but stupid is not one of them. “I can barely hold a gun. I just got the drop on you the first time. I’m thinking that you want something from me.”

Cro’s shoulders tense, his hands balling into fists.

“Something to ponder,” Rex wistfully echoes Cro’s words from earlier.

There is a tension between them that wasn’t there before, and Rex really does hate his big mouth sometimes. He’s made the situation awkward.

“You cannot be Taken,” Cro responds eventually, causing Rex to reel back, surprised.

“Yeah,” Rex drawls cautiously.

Cro bows his head slightly, as if ashamed. “I can.”

And suddenly it all clicks into place. “You’re scared,” Rex says in awe.

“Of course I am,” Cro admonishes, suddenly angry. “Only a fool wouldn’t be.”

Raising a hand in surrender, “Look, I get it.”

“Do you, guardian?” Cro takes a threatening step forward. “My entire House died today. I am the last, and I was one of their leaders.”

Rex doesn’t know how to respond, so he says nothing and just listens.

“I do not fear death,” the Captain relents, voice broken. “I fear not being allowed to _die_.”

“You don’t want to be Taken,” Rex says softly as he begins to understand.

“No,” Cro responds pointedly. “I do not.”

Rex isn’t sure what to do with all of this new information. He’s always seen the Fallen as one of Earth’s many enemies, and that hasn’t changed. But he never gave any thought that they might actually be capable of mourning their dead, of even being afraid to die. They were just something that threatened mankind's survival.

But still…

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Rex says eventually, Cro straightening up in surprise. Rex smirks. “I’ll kill you before they can take you.”

Cro grunts and turns around, sliding back down against the wall to sit.

“I have no doubt,” he replies, ending the conversation.

 

The Taken find them an hour later.

“Incoming!” Ghost yells as the air is suddenly filled with screams and howls, followed by the building shaking.

“From where?” Rex asks, on his feet.

“The bottom floor, I think,” Ghost replies. “It’s hard for me to tell.”

“We cannot engage,” Cro warns, two swords in his hand, a gun of some sort in a third. “We will be overwhelmed.”

“Looks like we’re going back to the roof,” Rex says, going over to the stairwell and pulling it open.

Only to be met with a giant mass of black with a large glowing eye, gun aimed at eye level.

It’s instinct that saves Rex’s life, his hand coated in fire before he even realizes what’s happening, and he reaches up and grabs the creature’s hand that is holding the gun - it was a Vex once - and sears it off with a white-hot flame. The Taken screams as the rest of its body is immolated, falling over before disappearing into nothingness.

Just up the steps is another Taken Vex, and it manages to get a shot off before Rex can dodge backwards. Its aim is true, and if Rex wasn’t already missing his right arm he would have lost it just now, the shot instead grazing just under his shoulder.

Once his mind catches up with what’s happening, he begins to retreat, only to have Cro appear behind him and grab him by the wrist, _throwing_ him back into the room. He is already aiming and kills the Vex dead with a single shot to its eye. Cro then slams the door shut and backs away from it quickly, keeping his gun aimed at it.

The door bursts off its hinges as a dense purple light crashes through it, landing on the floor, sparking bits of condensed Void energy everywhere.

“Grenade!” Cro calls, ducking out of the way.

Rex has enough sense to dodge backwards far enough out of the way so that he doesn’t get hurt, but the concussion still knocks him down to the ground. Cro didn’t manage to get totally clear of the blast and is lying on the ground, dazed.

Taken begin to make their way through the door, zeroing in on Cro instead of himself. But Rex has prided himself for his quick thinking and wastes no time, tossing a hastily formed ball of fire at the group. The blast isn’t enough to kill them, but that hadn’t been his intention. The detonation instead cracks the foundation of the ceiling and the surrounding entry way, causing it to collapse in on itself and crush the Taken underneath.

“That exit isn’t going to work!” Rex yells.

“Then we’ll find another,” Cro replies, getting to his feet unsteadily.

“Oh, I already got that one figured out,” Rex says. “You’re not gonna like it though.”

A demonic cry comes from the other side of the now ruined entryway, the rubble shifting.

“ _Guardian_!” Cro snaps as he finally recovers.

“The window!” Rex shouts as pieces of the rubble explode outward, a shot from a Taken energy weapon going wide, missing his head by inches. “Shoot it out!”

Cro returns fire. “That drop is lethal," He responds with an annoyed growl. 

“Would you just trust me?” Rex bites back, frustrated.

Growling, Cro does as he’s told, the glass shattering, followed by a thick cloud of Darkness rushing in. Rex is certain that if he was human he would be having a very hard time staying conscious; he’s never seen Darkness this thick.

“Come on,” Rex says urgently as he runs over to it. Turning around, he extends his arm towards Cro. “Take my hand.”

“ _What_?” Cro asks as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“You can either trust me or you can stay behind, which is it going to be?!”

The door bursts open behind them, making the decision for him.

When Rex grabs his hand he doesn’t wait to give further instruction, not having time for it; he jumps and just lets the momentum drag Cro out with him. He reaches inward and takes his light, channeling it downwards to slow their descent. The only issue is that he’s never done this with more than just himself, and Cro isn’t exactly a feather, so the landing is rougher than he was hoping for.

Cro rolls into it though, coming up on his feet,  while Rex lands on his knees. A warning message briefly touches his mind, something about a minor crack in one of the joints in his knee, before Ghost quickly suppresses it.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Ghost says urgently. “We just have to get out of here.”

“Right,” Rex agrees. “Time to run.”

Cro is moving towards him though, once again forcing Rex behind him, a shot hitting Cro dead on. Cro’s overshield springs into life as a spray of fire consumes the energy from the weapon before it can hit its mark. Rex had honestly forgotten that some Fallen had those. Handy.

“Go,” is all Cro says, and Rex is moving. They begin running down the street dodging fire, ducking and weaving through old rusted vehicles on the road. When a group of Taken appear in front of them, Rex gathers a ball of fire in his hand and throws it forward. The grenade expands before jets of flame burst out and explode all the Taken near it. Rex miscalculated though, as one of the flames shoots towards him, passing through him harmlessly but crashing into Cro’s overshield, causing it to sputter out and die.

He’d forgotten that Cro was Fallen and that his Light would try and snuff out all creatures of Darkness that it was able.

“What are you doing?” Cro rages.

“I’m sorry!” Rex apologizes frantically over his shoulder. “I forgot! I can hardly see anything out here!”

“Just keep moving, guardian!”

And so they run.

 

He and Cro run for what felt like hours, dipping and dodging through streets and alleyways even after they’d lost their tail. It was times like these that Rex was glad he didn’t suffer from physical exhaustion. They made so many twists, turns, and backtracks that not even his Ghost was completely certain where in the city they were anymore. Every turn they took was covered in darkness; every other turn they took there was warring Fallen, Taken and Hive. Rex wants to ask why Cro seems to avoid the other Fallen, but there never seems to be the opportunity.

They eventually end up in an above ground parking garage, positioning themselves on one of the middle floors which is attached to one of the adjacent former business offices via a short skywalk. Three directions to run in if they get caught out, and no real room to be ambushed without seeing it coming.

Somewhere, far in the distance, are still the sounds of fighting.

“I’ve got a signal to the ship!” Ghost proclaims suddenly, startling Rex in the eerie silence.

Cro lets out a low, growling sound. “Do not be so loud. You’ll get us killed.” He snarls, slashing his sword through the air to try and get his point across.

“Well excuse me,” Rex’s ghost retorts haughtily, still hidden away inside his Light.

Quite frankly, the last thing he needs is a pissing contest between his Ghost and a Fallen Captain with him stuck in the middle. He’s already had his arm cut off, for Traveler’s sake.

“Enough, both of you,” he chides quietly. “We’re partners, remember? Now tell me what you’ve got, buddy.” Cro’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he withdraws into a more guarded stance anyway.

“I managed to establish a connection with the ship. It’s holding orbit above the city, just outside of the atmosphere. I’m having trouble getting any other sort of information, though. The signal is still very weak.”

“Useless,” Rex hears Cro mumble and really? _This_ is a Fallen captain? Such a child.

“So can you get the ship to do a flyby and get us out of here?” Rex asks his Ghost instead.

“No,” Ghost replies regretfully, “I can tell where it is, but the signal is too weak.to do anything else.”

“Not even an SOS?” Rex tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“I sent off the commands, but whether or not it’s transmitting, I can’t tell.”

“That’s better than nothing, I guess.”

“Barely,” Cro interjects. “Putting your hope in a maybe is asking to get killed.”

Rex doesn’t answer; he doesn’t really know how to.

Honestly, he’s still wary of Cro, no matter how many time the Fallen has saved his butt at this point. After it’s all said and done, they’re still mortal enemies. He thinks.

There is a long silence between them, and Rex is getting used to this part too. There isn’t much for them to talk about, and he hates that part more than anything. He’s what his friends - yes, he has those - like to call a chatter box. Though they often describe it a bit more colorfully.

An explosion rocks the structure causing dust from the ceiling to rain down on them. It was close, but not that close. A few blocks away, Rex can see the smoke.

“It is one of mine.” Cro starts, glancing at Rex. “One of the… Fallen.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I was watching,” Cro deadpans and starts to walk off.

Rex moves to step in front of the Vandal in large, measured steps. “Whoa, where are you going?” This close up, Cro is more intimidating. From his height to his armor to his arsenal, the creature makes Rex nothing if not nervous.  

“You need something to boost your signal,” Cro tells him flatly, sounding impatient. “That vessel will have the technology to do so. Unless you would prefer to stay in this… structure… forever.” And with that he shoves past Rex, heading down.

Rex has a bad feeling about this, but there really is no other plan. After a brief moment of hesitation he follows after Cro.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choo choo, all aboard the feels train.

“Is this all part of the plan?” Rex calls out to Cro, his tone genuinely curious.

“Now is not the _time,_ guardian!” Cro shouts back.

Rex leans over just enough around the edge of the vehicle to get a few shots off, landing a shot on a Taken Cabal, its arm exploding at the shoulder. _Justice,_ Rex thinks to himself.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, unperturbed. “I feel like we should have discussed this a little more!”

The only response he gets this time is a roar of aggression. Cro pulls out two swords - he had two?! - and launches himself out of cover. He charges forward, dipping and dodging out of the way as the Taken open fire, Cro’s overshield glowing with each shot he can’t avoid. Rex loses track of the Fallen’s movements from where he’s ducked, but he can hear each and every slash of Cro’s blades as they slice through the air and Taken.

The silence was sudden and deafening following the chaos of combat; the only sound now was heavy footsteps headed in his direction. He looks up to see Cro looming over him, breathing heavily but otherwise no worse for wear.

They stare at eachother for a long few seconds before Rex breaks the silence. “Was that really necessary?” He chides. Cro responds with an angry growl, turns around, and stalks away towards the wrecked ship. “My point is,” the Exo continues unfazed, getting to his feet to follow. “Keep doing reckless things like that and you’ll get yourself killed.”

“Says the one who befriended a Fallen,” Cro is quick to point out.

They’ve been at this for days now. Navigating safely towards the ship had not been an easy feat. Just traversing the twelve blocks from their last hiding place to here had been a test of patience. Avoiding combat is proving tricky, like now. They’d been spotted and forced to engage. But the two of them have settled into an easy rhythm in combat, if somewhat rocky. Rex could at least tell when Cro was about to do something insane now.

“Aww,” Rex drawls. “You think we’re friends?”

Cro lets out a noise that sounds like a groan. “You’re a fool.” 

“You keep saying that, but I can’t help but notice you haven’t killed me yet. Friend of mine.” Rex notes, his tone humorously condescending.

The Fallen glares at Rex over his shoulder, following it up with a huff. But he says nothing. For the first time in a while, Rex has some hope things might just work out.

When they finally reach the ship it is barely anything more than a smoldering ruin, probably no survivors given the heavy damage. There is debris scattered about, some of it landing hundreds of feet away. Rex has little doubt that the Taken they’ve encountered along the way were responsible. They’d encountered several many a Wizard on their way here. Rex still wondered if Wizards even in that great a number were enough to take down a Fallen cruiser. Maybe it was because of how thick the darkness was. Or maybe it was because of something else entirely. Honestly, Rex really doesn’t want to know.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” he ventures cautiously, gauging Cro’s reaction.

Cro for his part doesn’t respond immediately, his posture tense. “It is the only plan we have,” he says finally, not looking away from the husk of a ship. There is no venom in his voice, none of his usual snappy personality. Just a flat matter of fact response.

Rex steps forward a bit, looking up at Cro, concerned. “You okay?” He asks.

“Nothing about our situation is ‘okay’,” is his response, and Rex isn’t sure what to say to that.  


 

“Cro…” Rex starts.

“Enough,” Cro snaps.

“You don’t have to go in there,” the Exo tries again. “Ghost and I can track down what we need on our own, I promise you.”

“I said _enough,”_ the Fallen snaps, whirling around, eyes ablaze.

It had taken a while to find an entrance that wasn’t inoperable, and even longer for his Ghost to reroute power specifically to the door given that it wasn’t familiar with the technology. Just inside the doorway, the floor was littered with corpses, dead not from the crash but by battle, answering Rex’s earlier question; the Taken hadn’t needed to attack from the outside when they can simply appear on the inside. It was obvious, now that he thought about that.

“Sorry,” is all Rex can think to say.

With a growl, Cro heads inside. “Save your pity, Guardian,” he says over his shoulder. “It is useless to me.”

 _It wasn’t pity,_ Rex thinks sadly before he follows. _I know exactly how you feel._

  


Just like he thought, there were no survivors. All of the Fallen inside had either died at the hands of the Taken or died in the crash. There weren’t as many bodies as they had expected, which only led to the conclusion that a large portion of the crew had been taken. Though Rex thinks _stolen_ is a better word for it. Rex has no love for the Fallen, but to be stripped of free will… he can’t even imagine.

From the inside Cro had retrieved some sort of beacon, not completely unlike the ones the Vanguard uses, though Rex had never seen its like before. It was the only one that had been spared from any damage.

“I can use this,” Ghost says after it inspects the technology for a few minutes. “Definitely powerful. Hopefully it’s enough to cut through all this darkness. It’s very similar to the ones we use, Rex.”

“I can see that,” Rex responds curiously, his tone questioning.

“We steal them and retrofit them for our own use.” Cro deadpans.

Ghost floats right up into Cro’s face. “The nerve!” Cro reaches up and flicks it, saying nothing. Rex is glad he still has his helmet on to hide delight.

“Let’s save that conversation for later, Ghost. Can you send the signal or not?” 

After taking another few moments to stare at Cro, Ghost responds with a curt, “Give me a bit,” and vanishes from sight.

Rex lets out a sound that is the approximation of a sigh, turning to fix his gaze on Cro. “We’re all doing the best we can here, you know? Try and play nice?”

“I am not here to ‘play nice’,” Cro mocks.

“Then why _are_ you here?” Rex snaps, exasperated. “The more I see your fight the more I know you don’t exactly need us around. I don’t get why you haven’t gotten rid of us yet, and I really hate not knowing things.” The Exo has flashes of memory of Ghost waking him up on the edge of a cliff, feeling lost, like a child, and just absolutely wrong. Rex knows the feeling of not feeling like he belongs; he’s been dealing with it since the day he woke up. At least here, in this moment, he can demand an explanation.

But Cro doesn’t give him one, just keeps his silence, like he always does. For more than a week this is how it has been; questions and non-answers, and it is wearing Rex’s patience thin.

“Fine then,” he mutters. “Don’t trust me.”

A couple of seconds later Cro says, “I let you see my back.”

That brings Rex up short. “What?”

“I let you behind me,” the Fallen says again impatiently, as if it is supposed to explain everything.

It takes the Exo a long couple of minutes before he gets it. Cro let’s Rex see his back. Cro knows Rex is behind him. He _trusts_ Rex to watch his back. “Oh,” he says smartly. “Well, alright then.” Cro shakes his head, his posture sagging a bit. If Rex didn’t know any better he would say the captain looks tired.

“Trust is not the issue, Guardian. I… am the last of my house, now,” Cro mumbles, but doesn’t elaborate further, but it’s enough that Rex can draw his own conclusions. It nearly overwhelms him when all the pieces click together inside Rex’s mind. Like getting caught in a rogue wave at sea, the feeling threatened to sweep him away.

“You have nowhere to go, do you?” Rex asks quietly, stowing his helmet, not sure what kind of reaction the question will earn him. Cro meets Rex’s eye, and the Exo feels his chest grow heavy. He’d never stopped to actually consider what precisely Cro had lost up until this point. He’d known that Cro had lost his comrades, but it went deeper than that. Rex has never seen the Fallen as anything other than an obstacle to be conquered until this point. But he realizes now that they’re just as capable of concepts like friendship and family as his people are.

“None of the other houses will accept me now. I am the sole survivor, their Captain. There is no greater disgrace. And now I have allied myself with that which we have grown to despise. There is nowhere for me now. Probably better off dead.”

“No,” Rex hears himself automatically. From the way Cro flexes his shoulders, he’s just as surprised at the Exo’s outburst as Rex is. “No, not dead. Look, we’re not that different, you know? We Guardians, we’re soldiers. We’re soldiers because we don’t remember anything else. At least I don’t. We know how to fight, and that’s what we’re taught to do. But I’m starting to wonder,” Rex trails off, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe not all of us should be fighting?”

“Guardian-” Cro starts to respond before the ground beneath their feet quakes, both of them struggling to keep their balance at the intensity of it. It happens again, and again, rhythmically and with increasing intensity, followed by the familiar howl of a Taken rift opening.

Out of nowhere, standing before them is a Taken Ogre, a living mass of black with one giant, all-seeing eye. It roars so loudly that the air itself turns into a weapon, microfractures in his armor and skeleton forming, making all sorts of error messages agonize inside Rex’s head, causing him to scream.

A beam of pure energy shoots out of the Ogre’s eye, streaking across the ground and blasting Rex backwards. He impacts the Fallen ship husk hard enough to leave a dent in the exterior, and he crumples to the ground.

Cro, still on his feet, rushes to Rex’s side. “Guardian!” He shouts in alarm, but Rex doesn’t respond, just lays there motionless. 

“Leave him to me!” calls the ghost, appearing out of nowhere. “I’ll take care of him. I got the Vanguard to respond! They’re on their way. Just hold that thing off!” And with that it vanishes, presumably back inside the Guardian. For the first time that he can remember, Cro is at a loss of what to do. He’s always been the one in charge, the one who took action when no one else would. He was the leader of a now dead house. What power did he really have?

His body starts moving before he can think, drawing both of his hidden energy blades from behind his back, both of them sizzling to life as he charges toward the Ogre, matching its roar with a roar of his own. 

The Ogre, seeming to finally register Cro as a threat, turns toward him and lets loose a barrage of energy from its eye. But Cro is no stranger to Ogres; the Hive and Fallen have been at war far longer than the Guardians had, and he quickens his step, coils his legs, and uses the explosion that is now behind, to propel him forward and up into the air. The ogre moves with unnatural speed as a Taken, trying to swipe him out of the air, but Cro twists into the motion and lands on the ogre, blades sinking into its shoulder. It roars from a nonexistent mouth, but Cro doesn’t otherwise give it an opportunity to react. Push down with the arms that are hanging onto the blades and the other arms to push up and onto the ogre’s shoulder, making a quick slash at its face.

Cro isn’t quite stable enough to hold on when the creature shakes itself violently, and he is thrown clear of the ogre’s massive frame, landing on the ground with a thud, his overshield absorbing some of the impact. He rolls onto his feet with the continued momentum, not letting up, and charges forward again with a roar.

Deep inside Rex’s weak and flickering light, his Ghost can only watch helplessly as he tries to keep his Guardian’s light from extinguishing itself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hiatus, Batman. This one took forever. I want to apologize profusely for the long wait, but life got busy, then it got unkind, and then I got slapped in the face with writer's block. I don't want to make any false promises with the next chapter being here soon, so I'm going to keep the writer's block tag on the story, but just know that I promise I am still working on it and that I haven't forgotten about Lost Dawn. I am dedicated to finishing this story! I just want to make sure I do it right and not give everyone something half-assed.
> 
> This has not been proof read because I wanted to get it up as soon as possible, so please forgive any mistakes. I will be going back through it at a later date.
> 
> You might also notice that this story has been upped to M/M. It's short, and probably only the first of two times, so hopefully it doesn't turn anyone away.

_SYSTEM ERROR_RESET: UNDEFINED_

_COMMUNICATIONS ERROR: RIGHT SHOULDER_

_COMMUNICATIONS ERROR: RIGHT JOINTS: ALL_

_COMMUNICATIONS ERROR: RIGHT PHALANGES: ALL_

_SYSTEM ERROR_RESET: LIMITED_

_DAMAGE TO RIGHT KNEE JOINT: SEVERE_

**Pain.**

_SYSTEM ERROR_RESET: LIMITED_

_DAMAGE TO SPINE JOINTS: MINIMAL TO MODERATE_

**It hurts.**

_HEAD TRAUMA DETECTED: DAMAGE: MODERATE_

_ATTEMPTING TO RECOVER DATA: ALL_

 

Rex’s Light flickers but doesn’t go out.

“Rex!” Ghost calls out, getting lost in the slowly, slowly creeping darkness.

He hears, but doesn’t comprehend. “Everything hurts,” he hears himself mumble.

“I know,” comes Ghost’s sad and desperate reply, unsure if Rex is even able to hear him. “I’m trying to help, I am. But I need your help this time.”

Rex opens his eyes slowly, the flickering flame in front of him hurting his eyes. He’s floating in a void, surrounded by nothingness and Light at the same time. It disorients him.

_ERROR_

He cries out, the noise in his head overwhelming him.

“It hurts,” he says again weakly, and the flame flickers, growing a bit dimmer.

Ghost flies around in front of him. “Look at me!”

“I can’t,” he says, grasping at the sides of his head. “I can’t, I can’t!”  
  
“You can! We’ve come too far, you can’t give up now!”

Rex becomes eerily still. “Give up?” he questions, curious. “I’m giving up?” He sounds confused.

“It’s not safe here, Rex. Remember where you are. You have to rekindle your light.”

He can still feel the warmth of the Light, and he leans into it instinctively. His memories are hazy, they are there, but he still feels like he’s forgetting something important.

He dreams.

 

Darrus leans over and snaps his fingers in front of Rex a couple of times, trying to get his attention. Rex starts, looking around the room in confusion.

“Tower to Rex. You in there, Rex?” Darrus says humorously.

They’re in the tower hangar, the sounds of whirring machines and the grinding of metal on metal filling the air. Darrus is sitting on a table, sandwich in his hand and a thermos of coffee next to him. Darrus is looking at him, his expression one part amused one part concerned.

“Darrus,” Rex says, disbelieving.

“You feeling alright?” Darrus asks with the slight tilt of his head. His medium length dark brown hair is brushed to the side, sticking up haphazardly in places from a long day’s work, his beard scruff present as always. The most beautiful thing Rex has ever seen.

Rex looks down as his hands - _both_ of his hands. He flexes them experimentally. This is wrong. Something isn’t right. He reaches inwards to try and tap into his light and finds that he can’t; he can feel it, but it feels far away. His right hand twitches.

He looks around the hangar, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. Everyone looks right, but the edges of his vision are blurry and out of focus.

“How did I get here?” He asks quietly.

Darrus frowns. “How? You just got back from a mission in New York.”

 _Wrong._ “I did? I don’t remember.”

The mechanic frowns, a confused look on his face. He tilts his head and opens his mouth as if to say something, but decides against it. Rex wracks his brain trying to find something to say too, but he can’t find the words.

Hopping off the table, the mechanic closes the couple of feet that separates them and reaches up to rest his hand on the back of Rex’s neck. The gesture is a familiar one and his lover’s touch helps ground him. The sensation relaxes him. Darrus pulls Rex towards him, pressing their foreheads together, mindful Rex’s horn. Rex’s Light flickers and swells.

“That’s right,” Darrus whispers kindly. “Just focus on me.”

“I missed you,” Rex replies with a bit of static in his voice.

The man brings reaches up with his other hand to cup Rex’s face tenderly, brushing his thumbs along the Exo’s cheeks.

“I don’t think you’re here yet,” Darrus says sadly. Rex’s right hand spasms slightly before Rex loses sensation in it, vanishing. The man notices, and looks down, his eyes widening. “ _Rex,”_ he breathes, his expression concerned and a little terrified. “What happened to your arm?”

_A laser. A sword._

“I think someone cut it off,” Rex deadpans, as if it was an everyday occurrence.

Darrus gapes with his mouth open. “Rex, what the hell?”

“I asked him to.”

“Him _who?”_

Rex pauses, thinking. “Cro’istozl,” he says finally. “He’s a Fallen.”

Shock: _“What?!”_

“Well,” Rex amends as he remembers something else. “First it kind of got shot off.”

Awe: “Traveler be damned.”

“It’s been a long week.”

Darrus deflates and Rex doesn’t like how it makes me look older. Tired. He looks like he’s about to say something but then shakes his head, smiling fondly. “For me too.”

“This really is a dream, isn’t it?” Rex asks as the reality of the situation finally sinks in, a tremble in his voice. “But I don’t want to wake up.”  
  
“Me neither,” Darrus chuckles.

“So you’re dreaming too?”

“It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? Kind of romantic.”  
  
It’s Rex’s turn to laugh, the reaction surprising him. “Trust you to find the silver lining,” He pulls back from Darrus and looks at him seriously. “I think I’m in trouble.”

Darrus’ lips curve upward slightly. “You always are, and you always find a way out.” He grabs Rex’s left hand and presses it against his cheek. “I _need_ you to find a way out, Chief.”

 _Chief._ Darrus’ pet name for Rex, and there is a comfortable and companionable silence that passes between them. Rex doesn’t want to let go, wants to hold on to Darrus’ warm form for forever, but he knows it can’t last. 

It can’t last right now: but it will. He’s going to make sure of it.

Rex’s Light swells further at each passing moment, enough that he can feel the heat of it inside him. He reaches out and grabs hold of that familiar power, channels it, and makes fire. He knows this feeling, and instinct takes over.

“I promise,” He says with conviction, pushing fire out of his right shoulder where the joints of his arm should meet, letting them take shape. “I’ll find my way back to you.” As the fire inside him grows, it brings with it memory. Memories of a deep darkness suffocating him, of a roar, of pain, of a comrade. “But someone else needs me first.”

Darrus smirks and pulls Rex in for a quick but powerful kiss and Rex revels in how it sparks against his lips, his Light briefly entwining itself with Darrus’.

“Kick some ass,” His lover says firmly.

Rex opens his mouth to respond, but a voice behind him says instead: “As if you can,” comes a familiar deep, gargling voice.

“Cro?” Rex asks, darting around to look behind him. But it’s not Cro.

Not anymore.

What’s before him is not Cro’istozl, but a being that has been twisted by the dark and chaos. Half of Cro’s body was oozing a darkness that drifted away as if wafted off of him. The other half of him, though still Vandal, is being twisted; tendrils of darkness winding through his limbs and torso. This creature was the closest thing to a nightmare that Rex has ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Oh, Cro,” Rex says, sounding heartbroken. “I’m too late?”

“Spare me your pity, Guardian,” the creature who used to be Cro snaps. The world around them cracks, actually cracks, like a mirror shattering. Rex turns back around to find that Darrus is no longer standing behind him, and he can’t decide if he’s happy about that or not.

“You are useless,” Cro hisses. “Look what you did to me!” He gestures at himself.

“What I did?” Cro snaps back, indignant. “How the hell is this my fault?”  
  
“You didn’t kill me!” The creature yells back. “You said you would, and now look at me! _I’m being Taken!_ ”

Which brings Rex up short, unsure what to say. He had promised that, hadn’t he?

“What use are you anyway? You have no power in the darkness. Who was I to trust a fool like you?”  
  
But wait, something isn’t right here.   
  
“Are you real?” Rex asks suddenly. “Like, real real?”   
  
“Does it matter?” Cro shoots back, and really, Rex guesses it doesn’t.   
  
“I’m not going to kill you,” he says firmly. “No, I’m going to save you.”

“Save me? How can you possibly hope to stop this?”  
  
Rex puffs out his chest. “With Light,” he responds smugly.

“With- “ is all Cro has the chance to say before Rex throws a ball of fire in his face.

  
  
_FULL SYSTEM RESTORE: COMPLETE_

  
  
Awareness doesn’t come gradually. No, it hits him like a sparrow to the chest. Rex’s head snaps up, immediately taking in the world around him. For a moment, it’s sensory overload and he feels his mind short circuit at all the sudden input.

“You’re back!” Ghost pulses inside him.

“Sorry about that,” He responds wryly. “Just needed a nap.”

A roar from the other side of the street grabs his attention suddenly, and he looks up just in time to see Cro dodge roll out of the way of a Taken Ogre’s fist. He makes it, but the shock wave of the impact knocks him back and he loses his balance.

“I don’t know what you did,” Ghost continues. “But your light is shining brighter than ever.”

“Dammit, he needs help.” Rex says tensely, watching as Cro barely dodges another swipe from the Ogre. The fallen’s movements are sluggish and exhausted. “How long was I out?”

“Twenty minutes.”   
  
Rex lets out a string of curses that would make even Darrus blush. “I’ll just have to put this new Light to good use,” and he glows. It’s something he’s never done before, revitalizing himself with fire. But Ikora’s taught him the theories and how to channel his Light, and he’s one of the most talented Wizards not in power, but skill. This will drain him, but he’s committed.

Orange flame crackles on the surface of his body and clothes, burning hot and deep inside his very being. It fills the cracks and imperfections caused all the impacts, an arm of pure Light sprouting from his shoulder. Rex flexes his fists experimentally, finding that this new arm is just as responsive at his natural one. The Exo rises to his feet slowly and is pleased to find that there is no resistance or pain.

 _Kick some ass,_ he hears Darrus say.

“Alright. You ready, buddy?” Rex asks Ghost.

“Let’s do it,” is Ghost’s confident response.

Cro lets out a cry of pain and Rex finally refocuses all his attention on the battlefield. The Ogre has Cro clenched in his palm and is squeezing tightly. Rex draws Light out into both of his hands, one in the shape of a sphere and in the other a thick coating of liquid fire, and charges forward.

  
  
There is a fire burning deep inside Cro’s soul, black and all consuming. But there is something else pulling at his being, both bright and and inky black, worming its way through his body; a corruption he’s powerless to stop. He knows what this means, that he’s being Taken. He’s too weak to stop it, too weak to resist. The Ogre’s grip is tightening and sapping the life from him.

Nightmares tear at his mind and invade his thoughts.

"Son of a bitch!”

The voice is like a steel blade cutting through the clouds in Cro’s mind, jerking him back into consciousness.

“Let him go!”  
  
Rex?   
  
Suddenly the world is weightless and the wind is sharp, as the Ogre throws him through the air. He hits the ground hard and rolls uncontrollably, but he some how manages to not pass out. Cro can hear the sounds of a struggle in the distance, but he can’t turn to look. He can’t move anything, and his right side has gone completely numb.   
Then there is silence, and Rex is standing above him.   
  
“Just hang on, Cro,” The Exo says urgently. “Please hang on.”   
  
Darkness takes him, and Cro doesn’t have the strength to resist.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback appreciated! Comments are my life!


End file.
